


On the Road Again - Sylar and Parkman Fic

by Sylar (FanficbyLee)



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-15
Updated: 2012-05-15
Packaged: 2017-11-05 10:57:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/405632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanficbyLee/pseuds/Sylar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Shortly after headSylar and Parkman hit the road during Season 4. This is after murdering the tow truck driver and well before the Burnt Toast Diner.</p>
    </blockquote>





	On the Road Again - Sylar and Parkman Fic

**Author's Note:**

> Shortly after headSylar and Parkman hit the road during Season 4. This is after murdering the tow truck driver and well before the Burnt Toast Diner.

Character: Sylar and Parkman  
Genre: Gen  
Author: [](http://sylar.livejournal.com/profile)[**sylar**](http://sylar.livejournal.com/)  
Fandom: Heroes  
Word count: 1000+  
Rating: R - for language  
Prompts: Meme #4 On the Road Again for [](http://a-muse-meme.livejournal.com/profile)[**a_muse_meme**](http://a-muse-meme.livejournal.com/)  
Notes: Shortly after headSylar and Parkman hit the road during Season 4. This is after murdering the tow truck driver and well before the Burnt Toast Diner.

  
Sweat trickled between my shoulder blades as I leaned against the rear quarter panel of the rental car. There was so much dust covering the red paint that I couldn’t see my reflection in the shiny paint, which was fine with me since it wasn’t my face I’d be seeing. My face was somewhere else, and since Parkman wouldn’t tell me where it was, I’d be forced to put up with his whiny shit for that much longer. He was glowering at me while I watched the numbers click in the gas pump’s display.

“Do something useful,” I told him. “Wash the windows, and I’ll go inside and buy you a bag of Doritos and some Slim Jims.”

“Be happy to,” he said with big grin. “Just give me my body back, and I’ll do that. You must be getting pretty tired of driving by now, Sylar. How many hours do you think you can keep it up?”

“Longer than you ever could, just ask your wife.” The guy at the other side of the pump gave me a sideways look, since as far as he could tell I was talking to myself. I tapped my ear, pretending the blue tooth headset I had hooked there was working. “She had no complaints… for a change.”

I gave the guy a bright smile from Parkman’s cubby face and went back to remove the nozzle from the gas tank and took care of the receipt. “Lucky for me, you’ve got pretty good credit. That’s all because of Janice, right?”

“Stop talking about her, Sylar.” He was livid, face turning red and a snarl curling his lips as he stomped along after me as I walked into the AM/PM mini-mart. “Leave my wife out of whatever this is going on between us.”

“You make it sound like I have a choice, Parkman,” I told him as I filled my little blue basket with Gatorade, Cheetos, beef jerky and other road food that I liked. “You’re not allergic to nuts right?” I asked as I tossed a bag of Beer Nuts on top of the rest.

“No, I can eat anything.”

“And it shows,” I said as I slip into the driver’s seat. I frowned as I put on the seatbelt. It annoyed me how much further I had to stretch it out to fit around Parkman’s spare tire not that I was helping him with all the crap I intended to put into it on the ride. “Tell me where my body is, and you can get back to wifey that much faster. But tell me the truth,” I glanced at him in the rear view mirror. “Aren’t you excited that you might get to see Mohinder again? I’m sure he misses the hell out of you.”

“Mohinder doesn’t miss me.” He settled into the passenger seat and folded his arms across his chest. “He’s in India.”

“Are you getting sullen, Parkman?” I teased as I pulled out onto the highway. The sun was high in the sky, burning the sand and scrub brush to a pale washed out beige. The horizon shimmered from the heat distortion, and there wasn’t another car coming in either direction. We were between Butt Fuck and the Cliffs of Insanity.

Last time I made this drive, I’d been on my way back from killing Molly Walker’s family, and I’d been alone. I’d also been in my own body and buzzing from the high of my kills. I had so much power then, and now I had nothing. Parkman was getting better at blocking my use of his, and that made me grit my teeth…his teeth.

“Learning by example, Sylar.” I wished to hell that I could backhand him. But since he wasn’t really there, I’d just end up slapping the seat and give him something to mock me about. I don’t like being mocked. “No one does childish asshole like you do.”

Just to show him how childish I could be, I flipped him off as I pressed down on the accelerator. We were well over the posted speed limit, but I didn’t care. I had to get to New York, had to get out of this useless body and get my powers back, and the longer I had to listen to Parkman the more I was afraid of losing my sanity all over again. And if I had to kill a Highway Patrolman for pulling us over, that would only improve my mood and ruin Parkman’s.

“And I can't wait to get on the road again. On the road again Goin' places that I've never been. Seein' things that I may never see again And I can't wait to get on the road again.  
On the road again - Like a band of gypsies we go down the highway. We're the best of friends.” I sang along with the radio, my hands tapping out the beat on the steering wheel. It wasn’t until I was halfway through the chorus that I realized what I was doing. I was signing goddamn country music. Me, Sylar, singing along with Willie Nelson!

I’d had the stereo playing a classic rock station, but it was blaring country loud enough to rattle the windows. I took my hand off the wheel and shut off the music. I didn’t remember changing the station anymore than I remembered putting a gun in my luggage. “Parkman, you son of a bitch.”

“What’s the matter, Sylar? Don’t you like a little country music?” Then he started singing the song off key at the top of his lungs. This was worse than the road trips that I’d made with Mohinder, the Wonder Twins and Luke all wrapped up into one. “Get used to it, because I do. I also know all the songs you hate.”

My teeth hurt from grinding them together. I was not about to let him win. I narrowed my eyes, gazing out at the blistering heat and then reached over to shut off the air conditioner. “You get to pick your music, and I turn off the AC. It’s up to you. How long do you think it’ll be before you have a heart attack? It’ll get pretty hot in this car. It’s over 105 outside according to the thermometer.”

“If I have one, so will you.” He turned and gave me a smug look. “It’d be a good way to get rid of you.” Then his smirk turned into an actual smile as we passed a freeway sign that read Los Angeles 200 miles. “Gotcha. You can’t even drive the right direction, asshole. Good luck getting to New York with me for your navigator.” 


End file.
